Come on Charlotte, let’s go for a walk and I will listen:
What was happening in that hospital where Frank and I sat for hours? He would not talk to me, you would not talk to me. Your eyes were red, your hands shook, you drove us home in silence. Where was Daddy, why didn’t he come with us? I know he was behind those big double doors, but why? Why can’t I see him, I promise I will be good?
How come we bought special bread at Waite’s? How come when Daddy came home you told me I could not run out to his car and have him pick me up? Why were you mad at me all the time? Why did I have to be quiet? Why did you start going to school? Why did you decide not to go to St. Luke’s anymore and become a Catholic?
You were afraid, terrified, overwhelmed; you had no support, no rights, only FEAR, only devastation and you had shame and blame and secret burdens to bear. I could have understood more and been more helpful, I could have not been in fear, but most important your worry might have been lessened a bit. Childhood is anything but carefree in the minds of children, but it is their go-to place for escape.
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